GM Doctor

In somewhat dirty white sneakers, loose-fitting blue jeans, white in places from wear, a white, nearly clean t-shirt, blonde hair cut short the six-year old E, somewhat small for her age, has stunned me.

While she's digging around the shelves for a nice toy, there's a small chance I'll recover. Only the bottom shelf left. As her jeans slips down a little, I'm slowly exposed to a bit of her white behind, in nice contrast to her tanned lower back.

A small sigh may have escaped my lips. With a wiggle and a giggle she turns around, a red doctor's bag in her hand.

Her piercing blue eyes, with a hint of mischief, probe mine. Smiling happily, she puts her bag away.

She slowly pulls up her t-shirt, exposing a flat tanned tummy, with an innie navel (I could have spent hours giving her raspberry kisses), and a tanned flat chest with pink nipples.

After a minute or two she pulls down the t-shirt, and picks up her bag again.

The diagnosis is obvious: A case of girllove. When I regain my capacity to speak I enquire about her fee.

"No fee," she says, "I like helping people. I'm gonna be a doctor when I grow up."
"I could have sworn you already were. You're much better than my regular one."
She giggles.
"And much prettier!"
Blushing slightly, she beams at me.

She starts pulling up her t-shirt again, showing her lovely tummy. But our consultation is cut short by her mother's cry:

"E, get your toy. We're leaving!"

Doctor's bag in hand, she shouts a quick "Bye bye!" before joining her mother.

Thanks to Dr E, my aches and pains are gone, and I spend the day in bliss, feeling not a day over twelve.